The Church Tower. 67 



chipping flint to a face for the purpose of making 

 lines or patterns in walls used to be carried to great 

 perfection, and even old garden walls may be seen 

 so ornamented. 



The tower is large and tall, and the church a great 

 one ; or so it appears in comparison with the small 

 population of the place. But it may be that when it 

 was built there were more inhabitants ; for some signs 

 remain that here — as in many other such villages — 

 the people have decreased in numbers : the popula- 

 tion has shifted elsewhere. An adjacent parish l^'ing 

 just under the downs has now not more than fifty in- 

 habitants ; yet in the olden time a church stood there 



— long since dismantled : the ancient churchyard is 

 an orchard, no one being permitted to dig or plough 

 the gi'ound. 



Entering the tower by the narrow nail-studded 

 door, it is not so easy to ascend the winding geo- 

 metrical stone staircase, in the confined space and the 

 darkness, for the arrow-slits are choked with cobwebs 

 and the dust of years. A faint fluttering sound 

 comes from above, as of wings beating the air in a 

 confined space — it is the jackdaws in the belfiy ; 

 just as the starlings and swallows in the huge old- 

 fashioned chimney's make a similar murmuring noise 

 before they settle. Passing a slit or two — the only 

 means of marking the height which has been reached 



— and the dull tick of the old clock becomes audible : 

 slow and accompanied with a peculiar grating vibra- 

 tion, as if the frame of the antique works had grown 

 tremulous with age. The dial-plate outside is square, 

 placed at an angle to the perpendicular lines of the 

 tower : the gilding of the hour-marks has long since 



